


4 a.m.

by unfolded73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6809092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never used to like being touched during the night while she was sleeping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	4 a.m.

**Author's Note:**

> Set at some unspecified time shortly after the end of S5, but doesn't reference anything from the upcoming season finale. Contains sort of vague spoilers for 5x21, I suppose.

Emma wakes at close to four in the morning to find she’s rolled toward him, curled into him, during the night. One arm is sandwiched between them, her hand pressed against his bare chest as if to reassure herself that his heart is still beating, the other is slung over his waist. Lifting her head to glance at the clock, she sighs. There’s something about this hour of the morning that if something wakes her, it’s a struggle to go back to sleep, if she can at all. Carefully so as not to disturb Killian, she rolls onto her back to begin her staring contest with the ceiling.

She never used to like being touched during the night while she was sleeping. Cuddling was for people with low body temperatures, apparently, because any time a man had cozied up to her in bed after the main event was over, it just left her sweaty and ready to jump out of her skin to escape. It was no different with Killian, _before_ , the too-few times they managed to sleep an entire night together. Emma liked having him there, liked (loved) waking up to see him next to her in bed, but she considered sleeping a solitary affair. So she isn’t unaware of how unusual the past few nights have been, waking up to discover herself wrapped around him, as if she’s trying to claw her way inside him, fuse their bodies to make any future separation impossible. Even the sweat between skin-pressed-to-skin is a reassurance, proof that he’s real and here and _alive_. Every piece of sensory evidence she can log and file away, from the sound of his almost-snore in sleep to the wet evidence of sex between her thighs to the touch of the blunt end of his left wrist resting against her stomach, she can’t begrudge any of it. It’s all precious. It’s all _him_.

Her physical neediness is one symptom of several of a kind of post-traumatic stress and she knows it, but she doesn’t know if there is anything to be done other than to keep living their lives until she stops being darkly convinced that what the gods have given them, the gods will take away. And anyway, Killian doesn’t seem to mind.

The days of grief left a mark on her. She wonders now if someone were to remove her heart, would the scars of grief be visible to the naked eye? A blue streak in all the red that a witch could read like tea leaves, telling the story of the time that she knew a deeper sadness than she would have imagined possible. That despair is gone, but in her heart a heaviness remains that comes from the knowledge that she is _capable_ of such despair. That she, Emma Swan, who had never relied on anyone, now has so many people tethered firmly to her heart. Now has this man in her life who wormed his way into her affections, into her mind, into her heart, and set up house. And even after everything they’ve been through, she knows they aren’t owed a happy ending. 

Emma gasps as tears gather in the corners of her eyes. She senses Killian stirring beside her so she turns her back to him, hoping not to cost him any precious sleep. After a moment she hears the rustle of sheets, feels him shift, and he presses himself against her. His arm moves across her chest and she assumes he’s just reaching for a breast, but then his hand settles above, flat against her sternum.

“Your heart is racing, love.” His voice is deep and raspy with sleep.

Emma blinks quickly, feels a tear slide down onto the smooth pillowcase. “Couldn’t sleep. Just thinking.” Her voice is almost even.

There is the slight pressure of a kiss against the back of her skull. “What about?”

She shakes her head and doesn’t answer.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, speaking directly to the fear she refuses to speak out loud. “I promise you aren’t going to lose me again.”

“You can’t know that.”

He pulls her closer still, knees behind knees, and she fancies she can feel the beat of his heart against her back. “I know what I believe, Swan. That’s enough.”

Emma takes a deep breath and lets it out on a slow hiss, feels her shoulders relax. “So wise for a pirate,” she says with a smile touching her lips.

He snorts. “Aye. Now go back to sleep, woman.” 

Covering his hand with hers, Emma’s eyes drift closed as she lets sleep reclaim her.


End file.
